


Here Comes the Sun

by WhiskyNotTea



Series: The songs of our life. [2]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 09:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14667858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskyNotTea/pseuds/WhiskyNotTea
Summary: Bree and Jemmy, a night on the Ridge. Set in The Fiery Cross.





	Here Comes the Sun

##  **Here Comes the Sun - The Beatles**

**listen to the song[here](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DwyHiWyJaYTk&t=OTAyNTI1ZGQ1MjAyZjJiMjU1OGU4OGU0MTg3ZmViMmU4NGU2ZWQyZCx6SEN2Tm0zVg%3D%3D&b=t%3AER6ZUZmW1jZnSm9o9CN4hA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fwhiskynottea.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173861773338%2Fhere-comes-the-sun&m=1)**

[source](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2F10milesbehindme.com%2F2015%2F01%2F01%2Fhawaii-here-comes-the-sun%2F&t=MTY0MTBjOWFhZTg0ZjllNTkzNzM5MTFiYjBhMGI2YmQ1ZWIxZTY4ZSx6SEN2Tm0zVg%3D%3D&b=t%3AER6ZUZmW1jZnSm9o9CN4hA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fwhiskynottea.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173861773338%2Fhere-comes-the-sun&m=1)

* * *

_Here comes the sun_

_Here comes the sun, and I say_

_It’s all right_

 

Bree’s voice spread in the quietness of the night, covering the Ridge’s ground like a veil before it interweaved with the crisp air, it’s echoes flowing between leaves and shadows.

 

_Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter_   
_Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here_   
_Here comes the sun_   
_Here comes the sun, and I say_   
_It’s all right_

 

The last weeks weren’t easy. The were far from that, actually. Jemmy was teething, leaving Brianna sleepless, tired, and frustrated. 

 

His cries woke her up again, his face all scrunched up in pain. Two white, tiny teeth were standing their ground proudly on his bottom gum as a third one was peaking out from the opposite direction, trying to push its way to the light.

 

Bree reached for the willow bark and chamomile tincture her mother made to relieve his pain. The moment her finger was in his mouth Jemmy gnawed on it, desperate to find some comfort.

 

“It’s alright, baby. Mommy is here.”

 

Bree sat on a chair and rocked him, holding him close to her body to share her warmth and her scent. He always calmed down when he felt her so close. His little head turned to find her nipple and a giggle left her lips.

 

“Again?” She asked, still smiling as she gave her breast to him.

 

Her little baby. Sometimes she looked at him and she couldn’t believe that he was hers. That she gave life to this little miracle.

 

But he had her blue, slanted eyes. Her red hair.

He had two chubby legs that she could never kiss enough, two hands with ten dimples on each knuckle waiting for her fingers to run across them.

 

Her baby boy, born in 1770.

 

_One hundred and seventy-eight years before her._

 

Her heart clenched thinking of what life awaited him in this bloodthirsty past. Her throat turned dry and she tried hard to swallow. She didn’t want to think of the dangers. She couldn’t. It was she, that did this to him. She was the one who came through the stones never thinking of the aftermath.

 

“Ouch! Ye wee gomerel!” Teeth worked fine on food, but definitely not on nipples.

 

The words tumbled out of her lips before she realized it, in her Scottish-American accent.

 

And that was the moment that she knew.

 

She knew that she would do everything to keep her baby boy safe. Just as her parents sacrificed everything to make sure she was safe. It was in her blood, after all.

 

_Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces_   
_Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been here_   
_Here comes the sun_   
_Here comes the sun, and I say_   
_It’s all right_

 

They would be all right. 

She wasn’t alone. Sometimes it drove her crazy, that she could never be alone. But she knew that no matter what, they’d be by her side. 

She knew it when she felt her mother’s eyes on them, her full lips smiling. She knew when she saw the frown between her father’s eyebrow every time Jem was crying, when she heard the love in his voice when he called him  _a bhalaich._   Her parents would never leave her; leave them. Fierce and loving, sometimes too much – but they were always there.

 

And Roger. She had Roger. Broken and crumbled, but still by her side. Bree pressed her lips in a thin line thinking of how much they lost during the past months. How close they were on losing him. Turning her head, she saw him sleeping on their bed and she felt her muscles relax. They would heal together, like families do.

 

The almond-shaped blue eyes closed, the wrinkle between the fairy brows eased. Jemmy’s mouth gently released her nipple.

 

_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_

  
_Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting_  
 _Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear_  
 _Here comes the sun_  
 _Here comes the sun, and I say_  
 _It’s all right_

Bree didn’t move. She stayed on the chair, feeling her baby’s breath against her skin. Cherishing her time with him.

 

They used to sing “Oh My Darling, Clementine” to little Jem. Claire, Roger, she. 

 

But tonight, as she held him in her arms, she didn’t want to sing about a little girl lost forever. She wanted to sing about a sun coming for them. She wanted to nurture her hope, to push the danger away with the force the words held in them.

 

But it wasn’t just that.

In the calmness of the night, Bree wanted to share a part of her with her son.

A part that she lost forever, left behind in a future when she was someone else.

A rebellious teenager; a careless history student; a girl driving to a Scottish festival to listen to the boy that changed her life singing for the first time.

She needed Jem to know who she was. What she had lived. What was her favorite chocolate. How much she loved listening to music with the volume up when she was at home alone. How much she liked driving. How she felt in Roger’s arms when they saw the first man walking on the moon. 

 

Sometimes she missed her past self so much. 

She was so afraid that she’d forget. 

It was in these moments that she ached to hear Roger sing  _Yesterday_  to her, as he once did. To talk about pizza and Coca Cola. To share that longing for something they both missed, even though they wouldn’t change anything to get it back.

 

She needed Jemmy to know. To know her, as his mother; as herself. To know where he came from and who he was. 

 

_He was a boy raised in the 18th century with songs by The Beatles as lullabies._

 

_Here comes the sun_   
_Here comes the sun, and I say_   
_It’s all right_   
_It’s all right_


End file.
